|| 3 Poems by Justin Hyde ||

i understandtoe fired shotgunsinvesting in the stock markettax evasionthe beating of wivesthe insertion of foreign objects into rectumslocking children in cagesvolunteering at soup kitchensholding the door for someone in a wheelchairmachine guns in mallsrunning marathonsorderlies raping retarded womenmunchausen by proxythe collecting of polynesian stampshuffing gasolinecalf implantsintercourse with sheepthe posthumous fame of elvischanging ones own brake fluidneedles between ones toesfibromyalgiathe placebo effectthe pride of anewly minted eagle scoutand elderly peoplegoing brokein front ofslot machines,it's all these seats in churchesand the glass-brained marks in themthe fingers of my mindcan't wrap around.

when are you going to hit me?

she askedduring a drunken argumentabout her male friendand my jealousy.

every manshe'd been witheven her own fatherhad used knuckles.

week lateri showed at a partyi wasn't supposedto make.

she was in a back roomon a futonwith some snake-skinnedblack guy (notthe friend)

the fuckyou want?he shotcompound fracturesmy way.

nothing manwrong door.

she was x'dout of hermind,didn't evenrecognizeme.

i stood at the doorparalyzed,then ipuked.

three days latershe showed upat my apartment,she had ablack eye.

go aheadi know youwant to,she saiddropping to herknees.

people

one on onethey'll acknowledgethe ambiguityof this whole catastrophe,own up to fearsand the irrationalityof their biases.get a group thoughand the ego,insecuritiesand chickenshit bloodstart dribblingdown their chins.it’s the worst goddamn b flickyou've ever seen,only there you aresmack-fuckin the middle.